Hours
by coffeeinanebula
Summary: All it takes is a few hours. WARNING: Major character death.
1. Chapter 1

Cause your momma really needs you,  
and says she's got to see you,  
she might not make it through the night.

She looked like she was sleepin'  
and my family had been weepin'  
by the time that I got to her side.

-The Baby, Blake Shelton

* * *

The past hours had been a whirlwind of activity. One moment blended seamlessly into the next, faces and words blurring together. He vaguely remembered making five phone calls, remembered having his phone pressed against his ear and different voices on the other end. He couldn't tell you who he called or why. It was all so distant, like he had watched someone else do everything while wearing headphones that canceled out every little noise. Through all of the confusion, a few words stood out clearly. They were burned into his eyes even though he had only heard them.

 _We did everything we could._

He closed his eyes and his head fell into his hands, but they could barely hold his head up as he shook it slowly. The harsh ringing from his phone caused him to jerk upright and he fumbled for it in his jacket pocket.

"Flynn," he grunted. His voice sounded strange, distant, but he couldn't focus on it for long.

"Andy, it's me." It took him a moment to place the voice, to connect his thoughts and form more than one word. "How is she?"

"Don't know, won't let me back yet." He rubbed his hand over his face. Everything was tired or sore; he had to have past the point of being awake for 24 hours. She had too and the only reason she was sleeping now was—He cut that line of thought almost immediately and tried to focus on the phone call again.

"Is it—" Emily's voice was hoarse and barely audible. Andy shook his head and didn't respond. "Oh, God. Andy?"

"They don't think she'll last the night," he finally managed. "Ricky's, um, he's on his way. Rusty too."

"I'm trying to catch the next flight to LA; I'll be there as soon as I can." The desperation in her voice punctured Andy's foggy mind, but not as much as the sight of the doctor striding toward him.

"I have to go, Emily. Call when you have a flight, I'll have someone pick you up." His words came out rushed and he wasn't even sure if she caught them, but he hung up before he could find out.

"Lieutenant Flynn?" He nodded at the doctor and she offered him a grim smile as she took the seat beside him. He shifted so he could see her, futilely trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. "We've made her as comfortably as we can. We just have to see what the next few hours bring and hope for the best. If you believe it it, prayers wouldn't hurt either."

"Can I see her?" His voice is weak, shaky. He couldn't remember ever feeling this distant. In the back of his mind, he could hear the nasty voice that had been quiet for so many years.

 _It would make it all go away. That's what you want, isn't it? To forget what's happening? C'mon. One drink won't hurt._

He swallowed hard, his stomach physically rolling at the voice. "I need to see her."

"She's not conscious and we don't know if she will regain consciousness, but I'll take you back to her." The doctor rested her hand on his sympathetically and it took everything in him not to recoil and retort. He didn't want her sympathy, he wanted her to do something.

"Yes, please." He gathered his coat and her purse—though he couldn't recall where it came from—and stood up.

"Follow me." She walked through the double doors with him close on her heels, hands clenched tightly in the fabric of his jacket.

The hallways they walked through spoke of death. Any possibility of hope was abandoned by the sterile white walls, clean white tiled floors, and the silence filling everything. Only the occasional beeping of a life support machine or heart monitor could be heard.

 _This wasn't where people came to get better, this was where they waited to die._

He tried to push the thoughts from his mind as the doctor stopped in front of a door and silently pushed it open. He wasn't sure what he expected, but what he saw terrified him anyway. He tossed his jacket and her purse into a nearby chair and heard the door click shut behind him, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the woman before him.

Without the slow beeping of the monitor beside her bed, he would have assumed the worst had already happened. She was pale, her hair a stark contrast to her face as it fanned out over her pillow. He could see the dried blood around her hairline as he approached her bed, resisting the urge to clean it off. She would need a good shower to clean it out now.

"Oh, Sharon." His heart felt like it was hammering at least three times as fast as hers, almost as if it was trying to make up for her lack of beats.

He sank into a chair by her bed and took her hand between both of his. She wasn't a tan person to begin with, but the paleness of her skin was barely a step above lifeless. He squeezed her hand and stroked his thumbs across her soft skin, trying to bring some color and life back.

"You're not allowed to leave me, you understand?" His voice was shaking uncontrollably and he felt his breath hitch in his chest, leaving a painful ache behind. "I'm not going to work with Provenza in your office. Do you know what a mess he would make of the paperwork? So you gotta come back and—and… Sharon, please."

He pressed his lips to her cool hand and squeezed it firmly again. She didn't react; her heartbeat didn't speed up or slow down and her eyes didn't flutter. He wanted to see her green eyes again—a glare, her little smirk, her laugh lines. Anything but what he had now.

He stayed awake watching her, looking for any slight change in her body. None came, but he kept wishing. Messages from her kids informed him that they were on their way, but he started questioning if they were going to make it.

The weaker her heartbeat got, the stronger his need for a drink grew.

Rusty and Ricky arrived minutes apart, both swarming into the machine-filled room and to their mother's side. Andy stood back, watching as they each took a hand and whispered reassuringly to her. He had never seen Ricky cry, but the young man before him couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Rusty's own emotions were obvious on his face as he wrapped his arms around Andy—he couldn't help but think about how far he had come since they first met. All because of Sharon.

Ricky excused himself to the bathroom, leaving Andy and Rusty to hold Sharon's limp hands. He felt the briefest of squeezes and looked down, his hand instinctively tightening around hers. He smiled, a sad and relieved smile as her cloudy green eyes opened for a brief moment.

"There you are," he whispered, his voice thick with more emotions than he could name. She opened her mouth a little but no sound came out; her eyes slid closed and he felt the weak squeeze again.

"I love you, Mom." Rusty's voice was barely audible, but it drew a slight twitch of a smile from her lips.

"Mom, oh thank god." Ricky's relief was obvious as he returned, resting his hand on her ankle. "I love you so much, Mom. Just wait until Emily gets here and then you can give her a hard time about her new haircut." He laughed a little, but it was too obviously forced.

"Sharon, sweetheart." Andy rubbed his thumb over her skin and her eyes opened again to look at him. "I love you too. You know I do."

Her lips quirked up again and her chest rose in a shuddery breath. As the air escaped her lungs, her eyes closed and her hands slipped from her son's and boyfriend's, landing limply against the bed. It took all of a second before the monitor flatlined and a monotone beeping overwhelmed the room.

Doctors and nurses swarmed and the three men were shoved outside, forced to listen to the sounds of the defibrillator failing to bring her back. Andy couldn't help but count.

 _Once. Twice. Three times._

The monotone sound continued until suddenly it went silent, leaving the hallway to feeling eerily abandoned.

"Time of death, 7:29pm," he heard someone say, but he couldn't think past the hole that had ripped his chest open.

They were allowed back into the room, one arm around the shoulders of each of her sons. He didn't bother to hide his emotions as he stared down at her—at her body. She looked no different, but there was a definite absence. The life was gone from her laugh lines, her eyes, the way she held herself. Sharon wasn't there.

Rusty turned his head into Andy's shoulder and he heard someone let out a strangled sob. It was only when he heard footsteps that he realized it hadn't come from either Ricky or Rusty.

"Oh, god," Emily sobbed. "Oh, my god. I can't—Shit, damn it, oh god!" She held her hands to her mouth and stared at where her mother lay, thick tears sliding down her cheeks. "Oh, god. I didn't even—Mom."

Ricky quickly moved to her side and wrapped his arms around his elder sister. She turned and pressed her face into his chest, barely muffling the sobs that shook her body. Rusty joined them after a moment and Andy watched the siblings hug.

He stumbled back into a chair and turned back to her body, his hands tightly gripping his knees. There simply couldn't be a world without Sharon Raydor. It wasn't possible. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Provenza's face. The hand on his shoulder tightened and he watched a few tears leak out the older lieutenant's eyes.

"Andy," he tried, but his voice failed and Andy shook his head.

"No," he whispered, looking back to Sharon. "No."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Provenza looked to her sobbing children and shook his head a little. "You should get them out of here."

"No, she's coming back." He almost believed it, almost convinced himself, until he looked at her again. The lack of life was too obvious and it felt like a stack of weights slamming into his chest, shoving his heart up into his throat.

Forty eight hours ago, they had been curled up on the couch together watching a movie until the call for a murder came in. Twenty-four hours ago, they had been ceaselessly hunting a brutal murderer and everyone had felt the strain. Six hours ago, he had followed Sharon into a house and she didn't walk back out.


	2. Chapter 2

His uniform was hot in the thick LA summer, but he resisted the urge to shift as they watched the hearse come to a stop in front of them. The doors opened and the six men stepped forward to ease it out before they carried the elegant, dark colored casket to the gravesite. The American flag fluttered gently in the humid wind as they lowered the casket down and stepped back.

Andy led the way to the first row of seats, Ricky, Rusty, Provenza, Julio, and Tao following him. Emily sat beside him, her hands tightly clenched in her lap as they looked at the casket and dozens of flowers that surrounded it. With the sun starting to set behind them, the scene looked almost serene and peaceful.

As the pastor began the final farewell, he became aware of Emily trembling beside him. Without a thought, he offered his hand to her and she took it, her small hand tightly holding on to his. He said nothing, knowing no words could offer her comfort right now. Ricky and Rusty were completely still and silent on his other side.

All too soon, it was over. Andy and the team folded the flag and presented it to Emily; she shakily held it to her chest, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Andy lingered by his partner while the kids approached their mother's casket, arms wrapped around each other while they said their goodbyes. Provenza cleared his throat and Andy shook his head. After a moment, he rested his hand on Andy's shoulder and gently pushed him toward the casket.

"They need someone," he said quietly. "They don't have anyone else."

"I'm not that someone," Andy managed, barely able to control his voice.

"Yes, you are. You need them as much as they need you. Come on, Andy." He stared at him until Andy moved closer to the casket.

"I love you, Mom," Rusty murmured just as Andy came up beside him. The teen looked up at him and quickly wiped away the tears flowing steadily from his eyes.

Andy kept his gaze on Rusty as he extended his arm, surprised when Rusty actually leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around him and rested his other hand on the casket, his thumb stroking over the wood. Her other children moved closer, Ricky and Rusty sandwiched between Sharon's eldest and her significant other.

"I'd give anything to see her again," he found himself murmuring. The kids looked up at him, but he kept his gaze on her casket. "Just to tell her everything I didn't get a chance to before."

"At least you got to say goodbye," Emily said shakily, her arm tightening around Ricky.

"Em, hey..." Ricky shook his head and held her closer, both silently crying.

After several moments, Ricky led his siblings away and left Andy alone with the casket. He rested both hands against the warm wood, his eyes sliding closed. So many thoughts ran through his head as he stood there, unable to put any into words.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "God, Sharon, I am so sorry. You don't... You deserved better. Your kids deserve better and I'm so sorry."

He felt a hand on his arm and blinked his tears away to find Provenza standing beside him, silently staring at the casket too. Neither man said anything further, just staring at what remained of their Captain.

"Take them home," Provenza finally said, his voice gentle. "And call if you need anything. And I mean anything."

"I'm not ready to leave," he said simply.

Provenza sighed and lowered his hand, instead folding them in front of him. "I know. I know, Andy. But when I say those kids need you..." He trailed off and shook his head as he lightly patted Sharon's casket and walked away.

"I love you," Andy told her. "I love you, Sharon." He bent and pressed a gentle kiss above where he knew her head rested, his eyes closing briefly.

He imagined how she looked, her hair curled and too perfect as it framed her face, her green eyes forever closed behind her glasses. She wore a light blue dress Emily had picked out and an angel pendant necklace Andy had given her for her birthday not too long ago. A collection of American flag pins lined the edges. But she was pale and devoid of life and that's how she would remain.

Finally, he managed to draw himself away from the casket after a few more soft goodbyes. He forced himself not to look back as he approached the huddled group of her kids, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Let's head back." His voice broke and he closed his eyes briefly.

Emily nodded in response but didn't move for several moments. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. It took him a moment to hug her back, soothingly stroking her back as she cried. Ricky and Rusty stood close, protective hands resting on her back. Andy could see the emotions struggling across their faces and knew it was reflected in his own.

"I can't believe she's gone," she sobbed, her voice trembling and muffled as she clung to Andy. "She's... She's..."

"Shh, I know," he whispered, his hand finally coming up to gently cradled her head. "I know, Emily. But we'll be okay. We'll figure it out."

He held her until her tears slowed and offered her a Kleenex out of his pocket. She blew her nose and he pulled the door to the limo opened, watching as the kids slid in. He followed and the team joined them soon after.

The ride back to Sharon's condo was silent save for the occasional sniffle or soft cry. As the limo pulled to a stop, it took Andy considerable effort to drag himself out and turn to help the kids out. It didn't feel right without Sharon there and he didn't want to think about what they would eventually have to do with everything.

Provenza offered to follow them up, but Andy convinced the team to head home while he took the kids upstairs. Once inside the door, Emily stepped out of her shoes-a pair of Sharon's-and collapsed on the couch. Her brothers sat beside her and Andy lingered by the closed door, his eyes roaming around the room.

He sighed and loosened his tie as he walked over to the red chair, settling down in it by the kids. Emotions rugged his heart and mind in every direction. Confusion and hurt that she was gone, anger that her asshole of an ex-husband hadn't bothered to show his face, and the need for a drink that had been present since she had first been shot.

"Andy?" Rusty's voice was quiet and it took him a moment to register anything had been said.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Do you need..." He stopped and furrowed his brow, fiddling with his hands in his lap. Emily and Ricky looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry if I'm crossing a line here, but do you need to talk to your sponsor or something?"

Surprise flickered across Andy's expression and he cleared his throat. He'd never discussed his addiction directly with Rusty, but it made sense for him to know.

"Yeah," he answered after a moment, and he left it at that.

Her other kids caught on and Emily sighed softly. "If you need to go, we'll be fine for a bit," she told him.

"Are you sure?" He hesitated, absently fiddling with his ten year anniversary ring on his finger.

"Mom wouldn't want you to give in..." She said softly.

He let out a long breath and nodded. "If you guys need anything, don't hesitate to call me. Or Provenza or anyone on the team. I won't be gone more than an hour."

"Take your time, Andy. You've done a lot already." Ricky looked up at him and Andy shook his head.

"I love your mom. And I care about you kids too. I'd do anything for you guys," he managed, clearing his throat.

"She loved you too. It was nice to finally see her happy after all these years," Ricky sighed and Emily nodded her agreement.

They were silent for a moment, the heaviness of Sharon's death sitting between them. "I'll be back," Andy repeated after a moment of the heavy silence. The kids nodded and he watched them for a moment before he left the condo.

He couldn't remember anything hurting more than losing her. The thought of never seeing her eyes crinkle when she smiled, the sound of her laughter, or the ever changing green of her eyes left a noticeable hole in his heart. He didn't know what to do about it and he didn't know if it would ever end.


End file.
